


rose-coloured boy

by calosanza



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Canon Divergent, F/M, First Meetings, Fluff, No Love at First Sight, No use of y/n, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Second Person, Rating May Change, Reader is AFAB - Freeform, Reader is bi, Recreational Drug Use, Slice of Life, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, reader uses she/her pronouns, uh oh im simping
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:20:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28426164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calosanza/pseuds/calosanza
Summary: there it was, clear as day, in neat, dark lettering under her lashes. it followed the curve of her eye socket, a bruise that just wouldn't go away: his name. // You were finally in your last year of university. Just a few more months and you would be a full-time assistant choir director. You'd known who your soulmate was since you were seventeen, but you figured that you were both too busy for things as trivial as love, so you never pursued him. All it took was a late morning and a rushed coffee in a nearby café. The universe just loves throwing things in your face.
Relationships: Bokuto Koutarou/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 26





	1. Chapter 1

The soul mark appears on your fifth birthday. It would be anywhere on the body, but the most common places were wrists, arms, shoulders, hearts, and the back of your neck. Some had them on their backs, stomachs, or legs, and there were always some poor bastards that had them on their face or in some unsavoury areas that rarely saw the light of day.

When the mark appeared on your fifth birthday, your parents were disgruntled to see that your soul mark had appeared right under your right eye. It was in dark, neat writing and seemed to sit right on the bone of your eye socket, following the shape up towards your temple. From far away it looked like a smattering of ink across your cheek, like the gods had taken a drop of a starless night and let it fall to your cheek, uncaring of where it would land.

For the first little while, your parents covered your mark with a bandaid or two, citing that you had a nasty cut from running into the corner of a table. And then after a while they said that the cut had left an ugly scar. Once you had gotten older and refused to wear the bandaids at all, your parents finally allowed you to uncover your mark. Everywhere you went, people stared; it was unusual to see soul marks in such a visible place.

But you went through your middle school years unbothered. You ignored the stares and the whispers and the pointing. You joined concert choir, as a mezzo-soprano, right in the front row, where hundreds of people would see your soul mark with every performance.

In high school, your concert choir was award-winning and travelled extensively. Your peers became intensely protective of people staring or pointing at your soul mark, some would even go as far as to call them out for it. You didn't care, but you also didn't do anything to stop it.

When you weren't at choir rehearsal, you were studying or fantasizing about the identity of your soulmates with your friends.

You were seventeen when you found out the identity of your soulmate.

You were in Tokyo, six hours from your school in Kyoto, for a music festival that invited the top schools around Japan to compete for the grand prize of 2800 yen for their school's music program. You had been eating lunch at some coffee shop, perusing through the sports section of a forgotten newspaper and you had come across an interview from the top five aces in high schools throughout Tokyo, along with a picture of them.

Skimming the articles, your eyes came across a name in neat, dark handwriting: Bokuto Kōtarō, and you froze. You stared at the name for about ten seconds before your eyes slid over to the picture of the owner of the name.

He looked... interesting, you supposed.

The picture quality wasn't great, but you could see that he had spiked white and black hair, gelled up to a point, as well as defined eyebrows. The picture was in black and white, so you couldn't tell what colour his eyes were, but they were accompanied by a wide smile.

"Hey, you okay?" your friend asked you after noticing that you had been staring at the same part of the page for over a minute now.

Your mouth wouldn't move to speak, your eyes still didn't stray from the picture. She leaned over to see what you were looking at, and she gasped when she realized.

"Holy shit," she whispered. "Is that him?"

You could feel your head shaking. "I don't know," you said. "I – I don't know, I don't know how many Bokuto Kōtarōs live in Japan, let alone the entire world," something in your chest knew that that wasn't the case at all, that the person you were staring at in the newspaper was your soulmate. And he lived in Tokyo.

Your friend muttered your name and gave you a look. You looked at her now, her eyes were alight with nervous delight and what almost looked like pity. She obviously thought the same way you did.

"We have to go find him."

" _What?_ " you had gasped so loudly that a few patrons glanced over at you. You lowered your voice to almost a hiss when you spoke again, "why would we do that?"

"What do you mean _why_? That's your _soulmate,_ you dummy. It's fate that you saw his name in the newspaper on the one trip we're in Tokyo for," she grabbed the newspaper and read over the article quickly. "It even says that they're all competing in the national volleyball tournament in the city. That's an easy Google search to find the gym they're playing in, we can show up, maybe catch a set or two, and then you two can see each other in some meet-cute way. Time will stop, everyone would disappear, beautiful music would play in the background."

"I don't want to burst your bubble, Miyu, but real life is not a shoujou novel, that's what makes it so appealing."

"I'm just saying," Miyu shrugged. "It's destiny."

You rolled your eyes and watched as your friend carefully ripped out the article and then stuffed it into your pocket. Once the two of you finished your coffees, you got up and left the café to walk back to your class's meeting spot. Miyu promptly took to Googling the location of the tournament and informed you that it was at the Tokyo Metropolitan Gymnasium, about a half an hour walk from the hotel you were staying in.

You contemplated Miyu's idea on the bus ride back to the hotel. There was a part of you that wanted to have the cute first-look she had prophesized, but there was another that wanted you to totally ignore the idea of meeting him – to lock the longing and curiosity into a box and then shove it down into the I Don't Have the Mental Capacity For This Right Now part of your mind. The closer you got to the hotel, the larger a warm feeling in your chest grew. It started in your sternum, went up into your shoulders, and then down through your fingertips.

By the time you got to your hotel room, the feeling of _something_ gnawed in your heart. You turned to Miyu.

"We need to sneak out."

///

Following dinner, your class had an hour of free time to swim in the pool or spend time in other rooms. Coincidentally, Bokuto Kōtarō's team played a game at the same time, according to the volleyball nationals' website. You and Miyu had devised an air-tight schedule: you would leave for the bathroom before dessert and sneak out of the hotel through one of the side doors. Then you would book it to the gymnasium, watch the game long enough to get a good idea of what he looks and acts like, and then make it back in time for curfew.

You went to dinner in leggings, your most comfortable pair of shoes, and a long-sleeved shirt. Once you cleared away your dirty dishes, you and Miyu ducked out of the dining room and rushed down the hallway to one of the side doors. Once you were outside, you verified the direction you were supposed to go and hurried off that way. It took you 26 minutes to get to the gym, so the two of you wasted no time in getting inside and running up to the bleachers.

"What was the name of the school, again?" Miyu asked you.

"Fukurōdani Academy," you muttered. You scanned the poster at the top of the stairs that depicted which school was playing at which court. "Court one," you said and pulled Miyu alongside you as you walked over to the court. Once you were at the right section, you skipped down the steps to the row closest to the court and sat in the seats that gave you the best look at Fukurodani's team. They were in the middle of a set, by the looks of it. You and Miyu scanned the bench and the court for a silver haired player. Miyu saw him first – she hit your arm much harder than necessary and pointed frantically to someone standing in front of the net.

"With – with – with the long kneepads. In the middle."

You spotted him immediately and your breath caught in your throat. Your first thought was that his eyebrows were a lot more pronounced than you had originally thought. The next one was _holy shit he's right there. He's right there and he's real and he's huge._

You couldn't tear your eyes away from him as he moved around the court. He was an incredibly talented and enthusiastic player. He shouted a lot, you noticed. At one point, he had looked up at your direction and you instinctually retreated into your seat, but he didn't seem to see you and your heart stopped trying to leave your body once he looked away.

You watched as a setter hit the ball into the air and he hit it down with a force you never could have expected. The whistle blew and Fukurodani's players celebrated. The whistle blew again and the players lined up on the back lines of the court before they bowed to each other and chorused, "thank you for the game!"

You and Miyu watched as they gathered their things and left for the locker rooms.

"I can't believe I just saw my soulmate," you whispered.

"This is the most soap opera-y thing to happen to you," Miyu sighed, and then squealed. "Oh, I'm jealous!"

"We have to start walking back now," you said suddenly, checking your phone. "Or we're going to be late."

"Don't you want to talk to him?"

"No, not really. What would I even say? I just want to get back so we don't in trouble." You pulled Miyu up with you and headed back down to the main level.

The lobby was crowded as you weaved through the crowd, but as you were walking out the main door, you passed a boy with silver and black hair slicked up to a point on the top of his head. You made eye contact as you passed, but you looked away as his eyes flickered down to the mark on your cheek. You were almost out the door when, against your better judgement, you glanced behind you and immediately spotted him staring at you, his lamp-like eyes standing out through the crowd. Miyu was talking to you, pulling on your arm, but you wouldn't let her stop and you dragged her down the street back towards the hotel.

By the time you came to your senses again, you were over a block away and Miyu had stopped trying to pull you back towards the gym. As you waited for the crosswalk light to turn, you ran through the last five minutes in your head.

"That was him, wasn't it," you said flatly. "Holy shit, it was totally him."

"I thought he'd be a lot taller in person," Miyu said, surprisingly calm. "He's really buff."

"I think he saw my mark."

"His eyebrows are crazy too," your friend went on as though you hadn't spoken. "The picture really made them seem a lot smaller than they actually were."

You felt the urge to scream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> calosanzaa on tumblr  
> [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/76KTvTcG4B7UuWmaQIzItm?si=mmxBbN-STXSchCYUva7DAA)


	2. Chapter 2

You entered your apartment with a sigh. As you kicked your shoes off and stepped into your slippers, you ran through the schedule you had for the evening in your head.

You had booked the practice room at the university for 7PM.

Which meant you had an hour and a half to shower, eat, and then get your ass to the music building. You didn't even have time to nap.

"Why the long face?" your roommate, Miyu, asked from the couch of the living room. She was in her scrubs, killing time before she left for her night shift at the care home.

"I'm tired," you said as you plopped down on the couch beside her. "I have to go practice for my midterm at school and I was hoping to get a nap in beforehand, but I needed to stop in the library to print off an essay I have due tomorrow morning and there was a huge line for the printers. So I was late getting back."

Miyu patted your head. "But just think of the sleep you'll have when you're done! Maybe you'll even get a full eight hours."

"Yeah, that'll be the day," you muttered as she stood up.

Miyu stretched and shut the TV off. "Well, I need to go catch the bus now, so I'll see you in the morning."

"Have a fun night," you said as she threw her jacket on and switched her slippers for a pair of runners.

She shouldered her backpack and opened the door. "Good luck at practice!" she sang, and then she was gone.

You sat in silence for a minute before pushing yourself up and walking to your room. You grabbed a towel, put on your shower playlist, and entered the bathroom to shower. As you undressed, you caught a glance of your reflection in the mirror, at the soul mark under your eye.

It had been four years since you saw Bokuto. Four years since you saw him in the lobby at the Tokyo Metropolitan Gymnasium. Neither of you tried to get in touch with the other since that day. You had stalked his social media profiles: he was a busy guy; always at some training camp or tournament or practice. You figured he didn't have time to get to know and begin a life with his soulmate, and you didn't blame him. You were busy too, you had to maintain a 3.8 GPA in order to keep your music scholarship, so you were always practicing or studying or working at student-teaching placements. The longer it took for him to reach out to you, the more you started to realize that he probably didn't even see his name on your skin in the first place. It was crowded, both of you were walking quickly, and you had only made eye-contact for the fraction of a second.

It's fine, you told yourself. It's totally fine.

Once you were showered, you warmed up some leftover chicken and rice from the previous night and busied yourself on your phone. Your alarm went off twenty minutes later at 6:40PM, a reminder that you had to leave in the next five minutes in order to make it to the school in time.

You put your dishes in the sink, grabbed your backpack, keys, a sweater, and changed into your sneakers. Once you were sure you had everything, you locked the door behind you and made your way to the university a few blocks away.

Campus was a lot busier than normal, you noticed. A couple of charter buses were parked outside the gymnasium – which meant there were sports happening tonight. You vaguely remembered getting an email from the university about some sporting event a couple of weeks ago, but you didn't read it. You rarely read the emails the university sent out. You muttered to yourself as you wove through a crowd of people on your way to the music building, which was situated across from the gymnasium.

You didn't _not_ like sports. You liked watching baseball and your sister played basketball for one of the top high schools in Japan, but you had always liked music better.

Your parents were ecstatic when you had gotten a full ride to a music program in Osaka, which would take you about an hour away from home. It wasn't far, but you had jumped at the opportunity, and Miyu, who had gotten accepted into a nursing program in the same area, moved with you. You were in your last year now, just eight more months until you graduated with a Bachelor of Music Education degree. You even had a job lined up in Kyoto as an assistant high school choir director.

You set your things down in the practice room and set up your music on the stand. You did a few vocal warmups and exercises before you brought out your phone and used your tuner app to find your opening note.

About thirty minutes of singing later, you decided to take a break to check on the zero notifications you had gotten. As you scrolled through your Instagram feed, someone knocked at the practice room door. You looked up to see one of your classmates, Hara Ai, waving at you through the window. You grinned at her and gestured for her to come in, and she opened the door.

"Hey, I thought you'd be here," Ai said, running a hand through her dark hair. As she did, you caught a glimpse of the name on her wrist: Nakamura Miyu, AKA your roommate and best friend. "Miyu left her headphones at my place, can I give them to you to take home?"

"Sure," you said and Ai fished the earbuds out of her pocket and handed them over to you.

"Thanks," she said. "Have you been here long? You're not overworking yourself again, are you?"

"I just got here, don't worry," you said. You had met Ai in your first year of university; you recognized her name from Miyu's soul mark and promptly introduced them. They started dating six months later. "Are you on your way out?"

"I was stopping by the library to do some studying and I swung by here to see if you were around. I think there's a volleyball game happening tonight," Ai glanced down at your soul mark. "Why don't you look up the rosters to see if _he's_ here."

"I really don't want a repeat of three years ago," you said.

Ai shrugged as she shifted her bag from one shoulder to the other. "I think it would be good for you. Maybe it'll teach you to slow down and look around every once and a while," she gave you a pointed look before a small smile crossed her face. "Anyway, see you later. Good luck with the rest of your practice."

The door closed softly behind her and you were left alone. You turned back to your music, determined to get at least half of the song down before you had to leave, but Ai's words repeated in the back of your head.

You knew she was right. You had been so focused on your studies and finishing school that anything resembling fun took a backseat. Christ, you'd never even been to a university party before. What university student hasn't gotten trashed in some stranger's house at _least_ once? Your resolve breaking, you grabbed your phone again and scrolled through your previous emails to the one the school had sent about tonight's volleyball game. Your school was playing against the MSBY Black Jackals, a professional team that was also from Osaka.

You Googled the team's roster, but your thumb hesitated over the link. Did you even want this? Would your soulmate even want this? Was it rude to show up outside one of their games like some creepy groupie and single out one of their players? You locked your phone and set it face down on your lap. Now wasn't the time. You had work to do.

So, pushing the thought of your soulmate into the back of your head, you resumed practicing for your upcoming vocal midterm.

***

You were running late.

You had woken up almost twenty minutes late, which meant you no longer had time to have a cup of coffee before you had to leave for class. You hopped out of bed, threw on a pair of jeans, a sweatshirt, and fixed your hair as best you could. You brushed your teeth, gathered your things, and left in a huff. The cool autumn air made you wish you had grabbed a jacket, but you ignored the cold as you rushed down the street.

You made it to the university with fifteen minutes to spare, so to reward yourself, you stopped at the coffee shop that was across the street. The shop wasn't too busy, despite the early morning commuters, so you had paid for your drink within a few minutes and were currently waiting off to the side for the barista to call your name.

While you waited, a small group of boys entered the café. One of them had bright orange hair and was talking way too loud for the morning.

"Don't you just feel refreshed from playing last night?" he said boisterously to his companions. "I feel like I could run a hundred kilometres!"

"Are you sure you need coffee?" one of them asked. "I feel like you would be bouncing off the walls before we even got to the gym."

"Oh, I don't like coffee. I just want something fruity."

You started when the barista called your name. You smiled at them and took your drink, moving over to the sugar bar to add some extra dashes of cinnamon to your coffee. The orange-haired boy took your newly vacated spot while he waited for his drink. You stirred in your cinnamon and tossed the stirring stick into the trashcan beside him. As you stepped around him to leave, you brushed his shoulder and he glanced up at you.

"Oh, sorry," you said quickly.

He opened his mouth to respond, but stopped when his eyes flickered downwards, which left him staring at you with his mouth half-open. You blinked a few times and looked over to one of his friends, who was also watching you curiously.

"What?" you asked nervously.

"That name on your cheek," the orange-haired boy said.

Your blood ran cold. You tried to mask your discomfort by taking a step back and averting your eyes. Did this really have to happen so early in the morning? "What about it?" you said.

From behind you, a rush of cold air made you shudder as someone entered the café. "Oh, here you guys are."

You looked over your shoulder and you felt like you had been plunged into a tub of ice water.

_He_ was standing in the doorway. _He_ was looking right at you. Golden eyes and dual-toned hair.

"Fuck," you whispered.

It wasn't even 9:00 yet. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> calosanzaa on tumblr  
> [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/76KTvTcG4B7UuWmaQIzItm?si=mmxBbN-STXSchCYUva7DAA)


	3. Chapter 3

There was nowhere for you to go.

Your class started in eight minutes and you were going to be late _anyway_ because your dumbass didn’t wake up in time. You knew he was looking at your cheek, you could almost see the gears turning in his head.

“I think this is the one time Bokuto has ever been speechless,” the orange-haired kid beside you said.

Your feet were moving before you realized it. You had pushed past Bokuto and were trudging down the street, away from the university, but you knew you wouldn’t be able to focus if you went to class. You had the urge to call Miyu, but she was probably already sleeping, so you were left to your own devices.

Someone called your name and you glanced over your shoulder to see Bokuto following you. For a split second you wondered how he knew your name, but then it clicked. You had the urge to break into a run, but seeing as he was a pro-athlete, he’d probably be able to catch up to you anyway. You came to a stop and he came up beside you.

“So I wasn’t hallucinating,” he said. He was breathing heavily, eyes alight with excitement. There was a smile creeping onto his face.

You blinked. “What?”

“A few years ago, in Tokyo. You were at the gym, weren’t you? You passed me in the lobby.”

Your heart was beating a million miles a minute. This was really happening, wasn’t it? You wanted to reach out and touch him, to make sure that what you were seeing was real, but you were frozen.

“I didn’t realize you had seen me,” you said quietly.

“You knew I was there?”

“I was in Tokyo with my school for a music festival. My friend and I just so happened to see your name in the newspaper and where you were playing,” as you said it out loud, you were quickly realizing how creepy it sounded. “We snuck out to see what you looked like in person. She really wanted me to talk to you, but I chickened out.”

Self-consciously, you fidgeted with the hem of your shirt. You felt small standing beside him – he couldn’t have been much taller than six feet – but he was buffer than he was four years ago. He wore black sweats, a dark grey hoodie, and white vans, but he still looked imposing. You had the feeling he could easily deadlift two of you. You watched as he took off his backpack and crouched on the ground to unzip and rifle through it. He pulled out his cellphone and straightened up.

“Can I give you my phone number? I’d like to get to know you, seeing as we’re, you know, soulmates.”

“Oh, uh, s-sure,” you stuttered and scrambled to grab your phone from your back pocket. You unlocked it and opened the contacts app. Once you clicked the add-a-contact option, you two exchanged phones and punched in your numbers. You considered adding an emoji to your name but decided against it and handed Bokuto his phone back.

Bokuto beamed at you once he saw your information on the screen. “It’s nice to meet you, by the way. You look a lot different than I had imagined.” You bristled at that, and your feelings must have showed on your face because he was quick to correct himself, “in a good way! You look better than anything I could have thought of.”

You pursed your lips, trying to will the heat creeping up your neck away. “Um, thanks,” you said.

From the direction of the coffee shop, one of Bokuto’s teammates called his name. “We’re boarding the bus now! Better hurry up or we’re leaving you behind!”

Bokuto turned to you with an apologetic expression. “I have to go. We have some games in Kyoto and Tokyo, but we’ll be back in a couple of weeks if you want to, I dunno, hang out?”

You nodded a few times. “Sure,” you said.

His face broke into another grin and you couldn’t help but give a small smile in return. “Great! I’ll see you in a couple weeks. I’ll text you!”

He stuffed his phone back into his backpack, zipped it up, and then shouldered it before turning and jogging back to his team with a small wave. You saw a few of them playfully shove him and pat him on the back. The one you learned was Hinata glanced back to where you were still standing and waved. You returned the gesture and watched the group of them walk away from you. Before they turned the corner, Bokuto turned his head back towards you and smiled.

Once they were gone, you let out a breath and clutched your phone to your chest. “I can’t believe that just happened,” you whispered to yourself. Idly, you touched the soul mark on your face. It felt warm to the touch. Your whole body felt warm, actually. Like you had been standing in the sun. Your phone buzzed against your chest and you checked it to see a text from Bokuto. You couldn’t stop the small chuckle that escaped your lips at the emoticon he put beside his name.

**Bokuto Kōtarō <:) :**

_hey! sorry if i made you uncomfortable. there’s no easy way to suddenly introduce yourself to your soulmate lolol_

**You:**

_no worries, i know what you mean. good luck at your games, let me know how they go_

**Bokuto Kōtarō <:) :**

_okay!!! i will_

_hinata wanted me to tell you that he didn’t mean to make a scene and that he’d buy you a coffee someday to make up for it. and he said that he’s also a total weenie_

_jhjdjllll_

_this is hinata i said no such thingfhdh_

_sorry he took my phone_

You actually laughed out loud at that.

**You:**

_i’ll hold him to that lmao_

*******

Once you got home, Miyu was curled up on the couch, still in her pyjamas and sipping on a cup of coffee. Her long hair was thrown up into a bun and you could see the sleep lines on her cheek from her pillow.

“Hey,” you said as sat beside her. “How was work?”

“No one died, so that was good. It was pretty quiet, actually,” Miyu said. “How was school?”

“I missed my first class because I ran into someone while waiting for my coffee this morning.”

“Oh? Do tell.”

“He showed up.”

Miyu inhaled her sip of coffee and coughed violently. You patted her back before she waved you off and took a few deep breaths. “ _hihiHiHim?_ As in… him? What was he doing there?” _hwheheeheheheheheheheheheh_

“Yeah, him. He was playing volleyball at school last night. I guess they were getting coffee before they set off,” you went on to explain the events of that morning. “He gave me his phone number and everything.”

Miyu set her mug down before she grabbed your arm and started to shake you. “Oh, my _god!_ That’s so exciting! I have to tell Ai, she’s going to be so happy. Has he texted you yet?”

“Yeah, like, right after he gave me his number. He said he had to go to Kyoto and then Tokyo for some volleyball games.”

Your friend squealed and enveloped you in a bone-crushing hug. “Oh, I’m so glad. You finally spoke to your soulmate! Now maybe in four more years you’ll be able to be alone in a room with him.”

“ _Actually,_ ” you said pointedly, unhooking Miyu’s arms from around your neck. “He wants to hang out when he gets back in a few weeks.”

“Scandalous. Make sure you use protection.”

***

That night, while you were getting ready for bed, your phone buzzed with another text from Bokuto.

**Bokuto Kōtarō <:) :**

_we won our game B) we play again tomorrow and then we’re off to Tokyo for training camp and then a weekend tournament!!_

**You:**

_congrats!! make sure you don’t overwork yourself_

**Bokuto Kōtarō <:) :**

_you sound like my coach lololol. don’t worry i’m always careful B)_

_how was your day?_

**You:**

_it was fine. class was boring as usual_

**Bokuto Kōtarō <:) :**

_what are you taking? is it something cool like quantum physics? my sister took that when she was in university_

You went on to explain your major and how, no, you were not taking quantum physics because the math confused you, to which Bokuto responded with an enthusiastic _‘I AGREE!!! MATH IS WAY TOO CONFUSING!!!!!!’._

The two of you chatted back and forth for an hour or so before he declared that it was getting late and that he had to go to bed. You bid him a goodnight and good luck with his game the next day and then finished up some homework before you also got ready for bed.

You felt oddly light as you stared up at your ceiling a while later. Bokuto seemed so nice, and you felt sort of guilty for ignoring his existence for the past four years – you hadn’t even told your family that you had seen him. That being said, you also never went out with anyone else after you saw him. There had been a girl you liked during your last year of high school, and you had quite a few “study dates” at her house which mostly consisted of sitting on her floor and kissing. You had even lost your virginity to her a month before the Tokyo trip. You ended things with her once you got back. She understood and the last you heard, she moved to Italy a year ago to be with her then-fiancée.

You rolled onto your side and when you closed your eyes, an image of golden shards flashed through your mind. 

***

You met Bokuto at a noodle shop a train ride away from your apartment a few weeks later for dinner. He had boasted that it was one of the best places in Osaka. It was a hole in the wall establishment, inconspicuous among a clothing store and a bike repair shop. The inside was small but cozy, with only four booths along the walls and two tables in the middle. The waiter greeted Bokuto by name and gave him a poorly hid look of excitement when he saw you.

You listened as Bokuto animatedly recounted his matches, complete with arm-waving and sound effects while he told you about the plays he and his teammates had pulled off.

“My plants were almost dead when I got home, though,” he said. “I don’t know why I thought getting them was a good idea, it seemed fine at the time,” he paused before looking at you like he was seeing you for the first time. “Hey, could you water my plants for me?”

You blinked. “Really? Not to be rude, but you hardly know me. What if I’m some freak that likes to steal left socks?”

“Well, are you?”

“No, but –.”

“Then why not? I trust you.”

“Oh yeah? What’s my favourite colour?” you were flummoxed. Either Bokuto was extremely naïve or he really did trust you despite meeting you less than a month ago. The two of you had only texted a few times in the weeks that he was gone, mostly with updates of how his games went and superficial small talk.

“Green?”

Okay. Lucky guess. “What _shade_ of green?”

“Uh, olive?”

You squinted. “What are you, a cop?”

Bokuto grinned. “Maybe we’re born with innate knowledge of our soulmate’s favourite things. Guess mine?”

You sat back in your chair and buzzed your lips. You examined him for a few seconds. He watched you patiently as he slurped his noodles.

“Blue?” you asked.

He shook his head. “Maroon. Looks like that theory’s off the table.”

You clicked your tongue. “That was my next guess. How many siblings do you have?”

“Two older sisters.”

“Oh, that’s lucky. I have a younger sister.”

The two of you went back and forth like that for a while. You learned that his parents divorced when he was sixteen, and you had in turn said that yours divorced when you were twelve. His oldest sister was a hairstylist at a modelling company in Tokyo, and the younger sister was a kinesiologist. His favourite food was barbecued meat and he had been playing volleyball since middle school. 

After you two had finished your noodles, you argued over who would pay the bill. Both of you insisted you would pay for it. After a quick game of rock-paper-scissors, Bokuto fished out his wallet and you waited while he paid for the food.

Then he walked you to the train station.

“Thanks for coming out tonight,” he said. “You obviously don’t have to go look after my plants the next time I’m away. I was mostly kidding.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’ll think about it. Thanks for dinner, I’ll have to agree with you that it is one of the best noodle places in town.”

“Do you have plans this weekend?”

“Oh, I have a recital at school on Sunday. I’m going to go practice once I grab my things from home.”

“What time’s your recital? Would you mind if I stopped in?”

You blinked, suddenly flustered. “Well, no I wouldn’t mind, but you don’t have to come if it’s too far out of the way. It starts at seven.”

“I normally have practice on Sundays until six, but I’ll see what I can do.”

By now you had arrived at the train station. You fidgeted with the cuff of your jean jacket.

“I had fun,” he said, suddenly looking bashful. He scratched the back of his neck. “Thanks again for coming out.”

You tilted your head as you smiled. “I had fun too. Um, if you don’t end up finding someone to watch your plants while you’re away, I’ll be happy to do it.”

“You will?” his eyes lit up and you found yourself unable to look away. “That would be amazing if you could. We aren’t going on the road again for another month or so, so you can change your mind, but you’re a lifesaver for saying so.”

You grinned wider alongside him and you rocked back and forth on your feet. “Yeah, well, what kind of soulmate would I be if I didn’t help you out? I should get going, though, I have the practice room booked for eight.”

“Oh, right. Well, text me when you get home okay?”

“I will. Thanks,” you gave him a small wave and skipped down the train station stairs. You glanced back up once you reached the bottom and saw that Bokuto was still standing there.

He rose his hand and you mirrored him.

Once you were on your train back home, your phone buzzed with a text from Bokuto.

You opened it and were met with a blurry photo of what looked like a cat running away from the camera. The message read _‘LOOK AT THIS TINY ASS CAT!!!!’_

You snickered into your hand at the thought of him stopping in his tracks and making _pspsps_ noises at the cat, only to be rebuffed while he fumbled with his phone to take a photo.

You saved the picture to your phone anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> calosanzaa on tumblr  
> [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/76KTvTcG4B7UuWmaQIzItm?si=mmxBbN-STXSchCYUva7DAA)  
> sorry if these chapters are a bit slow-moving, they'll start picking up soon!! thank you for reading <3


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